Meaningless
by RagingRedStar
Summary: And if he's lucky, when his eyes wander over the desolate shadows in the lab, his eyes trick him, and he can see John again... Oneshot. McShep. Slash. Character Death.


Lyrics are from Astronaut by Amanda Palmer. You should probably read the song lyrics as they add to the fic. I think.

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_Is it enough to have some love..._

_Small enough to slip inside a book..._

_Small enough to cover with your hands..._

_Because everyone around you wants to look..._

_Is it enough to have some love..._

_Small enough to fit inside the cracks..._

_The pieces don't fit together so good..._

_From all the breaking and all the gluing back..._

The days pass as blurs. Voices, sounds, shapes, moving slowly around him. He feels them, he knows that they are there... but his brain refuses to recognize them. They don't mean anything. The shuffle of footsteps, the whir of a star gate activating and the hiss from the coffee machine.

They don't mean anything.

His life has become a routine. A meaningless schedule. Awaken, work, sleep.

Meaningless

Beckett visits him once in a while, once a week maybe... Rodney loses track of the 'How's it going?', 'Are you okay'. His brain goes into automatic, it's all just nods and 'Yes, I'm fine'. Although he doesn't make an effort to cover up the hoarseness of his voice. In fact, it's strange talking now. His mouth feels so numb and rarely used that the words roll off his tongue eerily, dryly and meaningless like whispers. He ignores the concern in Carson's eyes, he's not going to make the effort to try act like a human anymore, he's only scraping past the ability to not get out of bed at all.

His hands move slowly over the keyboard. Weir hasn't said anything about his work yet, but he suspects she'll want to see him soon. He knows his standard has been falling, but he's finding it so hard to care.

He hasn't bothered to turn on the lights in the lab. He won't admit why, he tells himself it's because he likes the dark now, but he can't fool himself. It's because in the darkness his eyes can't define shapes as well, they can't make out his surroundings, he can feel lost, isolated. And if he's lucky, when his eyes wander over the desolate shadows in the lab, his eyes trick him, and he can see John again.

_And I am still not getting what I want..._

_I want to touch the back of your right arm..._

_I wish you could remind me who I was..._

_Because every day, I'm a little farther off..._

Some days, he's leaning against the edge of the glittering silver tables, one harm propping his lazed form and the other fiddling with his P-90. Sometimes when Rodney's lucky he's staring right into him, his hazel eyes as piercing as always, like a hawks. Sometimes John's back again, he's standing a meter away, and sometimes, just rarely, he's smirking at him with those damn hooded eyelids and for a fleeting instant, everything is fine again. Then his brain registers the trick, the fault in reality, and John disappears into the darkness again.

_But, you are my love,_

_The astronaut_

_Flying in the face of science_

_I will gladly stay_

_- An afterthought_

_Just bring back some nice reminders..._

Zelenka doesn't argue with him anymore. Maybe it's because Rodney's stopped talking or finding fault in everything he does, or maybe it's because every time the Czech looks over at him there's sympathy in those eyes. Once or twice Rodney remembers him asking him if he's okay, or if he needs anything, however he finds it hard to recall.

Everything is just a blur now. Moments trickle away, he loses days and he feels nothing. There's no reason for him to keep going.

_Is it getting harder to pretend..._

_That life goes on without you in the wake..._

_And can you see the means without the end.._

_In the random frantic actions that we take..._

God. He can't stop thinking about him. His mind replays the moment they met, the times where John saved him. The days they spent together in the face of death and the days they spent together arguing about whether Poison Ivy or Cat-woman would win in a full out fight. Every second keeps playing in his mind whether he wants it to or not, and every time it happens his eyes burn and his chest tightens with pain. He's never, ever known this before. He doesn't know what to do. What was it someone said? Maybe it was Elizabeth. _Give it time..._

Well it's been months now, and he wakes up in the night, cold sweat dripping from the tip of his nose and over his cracked lips. The darkness toys with him again and he sees John on the balcony, the wind rustling through his spiked hair, then he drifts away like sand. His heart pounds and aches like a wound for him, he fantasizes his arms are rubbing his back again as they embrace, a tightness, a warmth, that protects him from everything. But he drifts away like sand, a fleeting memory, an echo. But there is nothing. He can try to pretend, but there is nothing.

He keeps replaying the first time they kissed, the last time they kissed, the first time John murmured _'I love you_' into the nape of Rodney's neck, and the last words John had said to him.

_And is it getting easy not to care..._

_Despite the many rings around your name..._

_It isn't funny and it isn't fair..._

_You've traveled all this way and it's the same..._

Their first kiss is probably the most painful memory. It felt so good, and now it's gone. It's left behind some mark, some dent in Rodney and he can't get rid of it. He can still smell the spicy scent of gunpowder and cologne, his body drifts away and he's there. Sheppard's pulling him closer, and Rodney's sliding his arms up and around the back of John's neck. His forearm brushes his stubble, his hearts racing like he's ran around the whole of Atlantis but it still feels so damn good he can't think rationally any more. His body takes control and a few seconds later their mouths are meeting gently, fabric is brushing against John's tac vest and every breath they draw is long but fast.

They move inside each other like one entity, an understanding of each other so intimate they live as one, for those few moments they are together. The rushing, the breathing, the cool air as it hurtles through his nostrils and down into the chasm of his chest, his arms tensing his pistons and the shuddering moans that escape his lips. He's reminded why he's alive. This is the force that drives him. This is his entirety, his universe, his meaning.

Then Rodney's back and the longing yanks at his chest so hard he feels like his heart is going to tumble out of his chest. His breaths are short and dry, the cool sheets and the wind from the sea is freezing him and all he wants is John. He'd give everything he ever owned, to see him again, to have him back. And it burns him the most that he can't. No scientific breakthrough can bring him back. Nothing. Despite his brilliance, his mental aptitude and determination, he's helpless. He's useless. He's nothing.

_But, you are my love,_

_The astronaut_

_Flying in the face of science_

_I will gladly stay_

_- An afterthought_

_Just bring back some nice reminders..._

The day John died haunts him the most. It's not the memory in the night, it's the memory that plagues him in the day. He tries to hard to focus on equations but it's there, nibbling at him and every move, every thought he makes, draws him straight back to John, and inevitably back to him on his knees, blood running down the side of his neck and curling over the front of his tattered vest like vines, curling outwards like a crimson flower. His hooded hazel eyes are dim, but they're looking at him. They're looking right through him. He's panting outwards so hard that he's sobbing, small streams of blood brim up over his bottom lip and start crawling down his chin. But he won't take his eyes off Rodney. There's something about that stare, something so blank and emotionless it's killing McKay every time he sees it. Every day he sees it.

_I would tell them anything to see you split the evening..._

_But as you see I do not have an awful lot to tell..._

_Everybody's sick for something that they can find fascinating..._

_Everyone but you and even you aren't feeling well..._

It's not _help me_, it's not _oh god, I'm going to die_. It's just the plain, torn and broken face that says.

_I'm so sorry that this is how it ends._

The blood is all over him by the time Rodney snaps himself from his horrified stupor. He makes across to John just in time to catch him. There's no cliched ending, no over-used movie ploy. McKay catches him as he falls face down. In those few moments, his eyes still don't tear away from Rodney, even as they close they're focused on him.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't say _I love you _with his last breath as he dies, they don't kiss, there is no goodbye.

John dies in a second and then there is nothing. He's gone. Forever. There is nothing.

Nothing

_Yes you are my love_

_- The Astronaut_

_Crashing in the name of science_

_Just my luck they found your upper half..._

_It's a very nice reminder..._

…

_It's a very nice reminder..._

And then there is anger. Unfathomable anger Rodney's never felt before, not from all the times he and his sister bickered as teenagers, not from all the times Zelenka challenged him, not from all the times Kavanaugh insulted him. None of them put together can amount to this. The numbness burns and flickers and changes to rage. It boils up like lava inside him until he's full up inside. He's blinded, every thing loses meaning, his work is meaningless, Atlantis is meaningless. His life is meaningless, he is empty and lost and it's just unfair.

Meaningless

He finds the closest thing to him and flings it, from the smash he thinks it's a tablet. It changes nothing, the pain is unrelenting, it rages like an inferno and he heaves himself onto the table. His knuckles hit metal and plastic but nothing registers, he slides his arms to the left and the machines and wires fall off and shatter on the floor. Sockets pull themselves free and sparks fire up, vaguely he recognizes smoke. He can't get rid of this feeling, he wheels around and starts punching the metal wall until he feels the skin break on his knuckles and the warm gush of blood over his palms and wrists.

Meaningless

The room is still dark, he slides down to sit on his heels, at his knees, panting, heaving out every breath like knives are in his chest. He realizes he's crying. His chest is still paining and his eyes are stinging like needles are digging into them. The rest of his body shudders with adrenaline and anger,

He sees John's dying face. Again. Again and again and again and again,

His eyes still read _I'm sorry it had to end this way_

Again and again...

Over and over...

Then the anger turns to sorrow. He shakes and his face prickles with warmth, wetness. He feels his eyes are working out tears he's held back for three months now, three months that John's been dead and three months that Rodney has too. The tears gush from his eyes and even when he jams his eyelids shut they manage to leak themselves out from underneath

He feels his lips and body trembling without control, he keeps heaving out breaths until he feels like he's cried all he can, then he cries more.

_You may be acquainted with the night..._

_But I have seen the darkness in the day..._

_And you must know it is a terrifying sight..._

_Because you and I are living the same way..._

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My first fanficcc. Reviews are love.


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